One night in London
by shadowcaster01
Summary: Could her day GET any worse? Angie is just your average person, living her life day in - day out as usual. Lately, her luck takes a downward spin as she finds herself meeting some fairly strange circumstances. Maybe it will finally turn itself around?
1. There's a beginning to every story

Hello all!

I've been hesitant on writing this one for a while, mainly because I wanted to finish my other two stories first. This time, though, my muse wouldn't allow me to do that anymore.

So far, I can predict that it will be a four part story. I haven't seen any others like this as of yet, so I'd like to say that it's fairly original.

As with all of my fics, I don't own anything here. Apart from my OC, everything belongs to JK Rowling, as she was the one to come up with the wizarding world...

I hope you enjoy, and review/critique if needed.

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><p>1 – There's always a beginning to every story...<p>

"God Dammit!"

A young woman muttered harshly, frowning as her car keys slipped from her fingers. They fell with a loud splash into a growing puddle on the pavement at her feet. A rumble of thunder echoed overhead, followed closely by a flash of lightning. The rain pelted down harder than it had a moment before.

"Shit," she swore.

Finally withdrawing her keys from the water, the now irritated youth returned to her previous task of unlocking the car door.

"Stupid, bloody umbrella," she growled. "Why did it have to rain today?"

The now useless jumble of metal and fabric hung limply from its cord at the end of the handle.

"Now I'm soaking wet," she ranted. "And next time I'm bringing a damned raincoat, at least they don't suddenly snap!"

After a few minutes of fumbling, accompanied by constant swearing, the door answered her struggle with a helpful click. She pulled it toward her, ignoring the creaks and groans, and slid inside. The now broken umbrella was tossed unceremoniously at the back seat, where it would remain until it met its end in the rubbish bin. The girl slammed the driver's door behind her and glanced at her reflection, where a pair of hazel eyes stared back at her. The hair was a mess, it was plastered to her head and most likely was dripping all over the seat – not unlike her clothes. She glanced down, the only part of her uniform that was seemingly unaffected by the stormy weather was her name tag.

"Looks like it'll be another laundry day this afternoon, _again_," she sighed. "Why did it have to rain today? Work wasn't all that bad, and I also received my check." She revved the engine. "So much for perfect, eh Angie?"

As the old sedan pulled out of the parking lot, her radio station was suddenly interrupted. Crackles sounded through the speakers, and Angie reached over and fiddled with the dial, which only worsened the situation. She reset it to its previous position, where the announcer was in mid sentence.

"- we go over to the forecast. Over to you, Sam."

Angie rolled her eyes as she joined the regular street traffic. Sam Williamson was one of the worst weather forecasters she'd ever listened to. The man couldn't seem to stop trying to turn everything into a joke -

"We're in for a wild ride tonight, Joe," Sam was saying. "A severe thunderstorm is heading our way, with some reports of possible hail. I say 'all hail' the weather, it's been unbearably hot this summer, the hottest it's been for the past few weeks. Maybe this will cool us off."

Angie sighed, there were those puns again. She slowed her car to a stop at the intersection, slightly annoyed – could the driver in front _go_ any slower? She was sure that she could have made that light.

"Me and my luck today," she muttered, turning the windshield wipers up a notch. "Is it possible for it to rain any harder?"

The rain came down faster, as if it had heard her question.

"_Finally"_

The light changed to green and the car ahead of her had turned down a different street. Angie smiled to herself as a Beatles song began to play on the radio. She increased the volume and soon found herself humming along to "Yellow submarine". She wasn't too far from her house at this point, just a couple more streets and she'd be home.

A few minutes later, Angie found herself almost squinting up at the road ahead; it was pouring.

"I bet a snail could inch along faster than I'm going right now," she muttered, as her car slowed to a crawl, with her wipers going at full speed.

Suddenly, Angie stiffened in surprise, braking cautiously. A shuffling noise was sounding off somewhere behind her. She hoped it wasn't in the car, there wasn't much that she could use against whatever-it-was that was making that noise. The shuffling sound grew louder as Angie became more aware of it. She brought the car to a complete stop at the side of the road, brake pulled and engine shut off. Angie wasn't completely certain if it was wise to stop in the middle of a storm like she did, but it was better than causing an accident later.

The shuffling sound ceased; not a single sound could be heard now, apart from the rain outside. Angie shifted to face the back seat, where her dreaded umbrella now lay. She watched, motionless, as it seemed to writhe on its own to reveal a pair a dark, beady eyes staring right back at her. She couldn't move for what felt like an eternity. Angie did the first thing that came to mind, she screamed.

"A rat," she cried out. "A _rat_! What's it doing in my car? A _rat's in my car!_"

She grabbed a hairspray can out of her handbag and waved it threateningly at the creature.

"Bloody hell," she screeched. "How in _God's_ name did it get in here?"

Angie fumbled with the side door handle, while attempting to stay as far away from the rodent as possible. She then proceeded to swat at it with the can, hoping to drive it at the direction of the now open door.

"Get out!"

Several minutes worth of scrambling and yelling passed and still the rodent wouldn't leave. It looked out the door at the wet street scene before gazing back at her. The rat eyed her mournfully, expecting her to pity it.

"Don't give me that," Angie growled, feeling ridiculous. "Get out of my car. I don't want any more rats in here!"

Angie swung the can down like a club, intending to kill it - but the rat expertly dodged the metal and dived out the door, scampering off into the street. The girl sat there, completely dumbfounded, before she remembered that the door was still open.

Angie stared at her back seat in dismay. The driver's side of it was now drenched with rain, and she knew that it would take a long time to completely dry it out.

"I just hope that it doesn't smell because of this," she murmured darkly, revving up the engine for the second time that afternoon.

Angie wished for her day to improve when she finally arrived home. Things had become foul enough already, she didn't need any more bad luck on top of it. As if in response to everything that had recently occurred, the she heard the rain lighten up considerably. She was fairly hopeful that it would remain like that for the rest of her trip. Angie turned the wipers down a few settings and continued her way along the road.


	2. Stranger things have happened

Hi again...

I'd written this part along with the first one, but didn't get around to posting it yet.

As always, I don't own the world or the Canon characters, just Angie and any other OC I introduce as this goes along.

There will be only two more parts to this, and I will post them up shortly...

Also, just as a side note: Think of the song "One night in Bangkok" when reading the story title. That's its inspiration.

So, without further ado, please enjoy chapter 2 of One Night In London...

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><p>2 - Stranger things have happened...<p>

The last five minutes of her ride home were uneventful. The rain didn't stop, nor did it get any worse – and the traffic was moderate, if not light. Angie didn't have much to complain about as she pulled into the driveway of her rental home. It was a modest one storey building with a slate grey tiled roof and a small backyard. She was fairly satisfied with it, and smiled to herself as she gazed up at the familiar red bricks before her. Angie was so lost in her own thoughts, that she almost completely overlooked what had just appeared in front of her as she finally emerged from her car.

-It was a deer.

Angie blinked in surprise. What was a deer doing in her front yard? She didn't dare move, in case she startled the creature; who knows what it would do if it were frightened? Angie wanted to avoid the risk, especially given how big it was. She had never seen a deer so up-close before. What shocked her the most was how calm it appeared to be. It was as if the animal was completely accustomed to hanging around outside someone's home.

"Ummm..."Angie muttered, unsure of what she should do next.

At least she had locked her car _before_ finding this here. It would have been strange indeed if it had decided to take a tour of her vehicle... She was the most worried, though, about what it would do to her; she'd heard horror stories where seemingly docile animals would suddenly attack people. It was a stag, that much she knew. The massive antlers that crowned its head were a major indicator in that department. It – _he_ was giving her, what she interpreted as, a regal look. He seemed to be saying:

_I know you admire me, because I'm magnificent..._

Angie sighed.

"I've really got to stop humanising every animal I see, it's beginning to get out of hand."

The stag snorted, as if it agreed with her statement. The liquid brown eyes held hers for several moments, before she pulled away.

"Sorry, big guy," she cooed softly. "Although I find the idea of you being here an unusual and amazing highlight of my day, I have to go inside now."

Angie unconsciously reached out towards the large animal, before she caught herself and pulled back.

"I know, we're both already soaking wet," she replied hastily to the stag's almost appraising look.

The rain still hadn't let up at this point. Angie tilted her head up to the sky, squinting past the shower of water falling onto her face. The sky had already darkened to a medium grey. The radio broadcaster was right, it _was_ going to be a huge storm. She turned back to the deer at her side.

"I need to change into some dry clothes before I catch something in this dreadful rain."

The stag nodded to her, almost in accord with her reasoning. It certainly didn't help her resolve to stop giving the animal a human-like personality.

Angie edged her way around him, ensuring that she didn't startle the poor creature by making any sudden moves. Halfway through her approach to the front door, however, she felt a faint puff of hot air brush against her right shoulder and turned around. The deer nudged her arm gently, coaxing her to pet it. Angie gasped softly.

"I didn't think that you'd ever let me do that, big guy," she breathed, stroking the fur on top of its head.

He snorted at her, as if amused by her reaction. Angie laughed.

"I guess I wouldn't either, seeing as how we humans can really screw things up, eh?"

He nudged her again, and Angie interpreted this gesture as his agreement.

"You know," she began. "I think this is the best part of my day so far. Right now, that is."

Her hand brushed up against one of the antlers, although the stag made no move to indicate that she had done anything wrong. Angie, after a moment's hesitation, shrugged it off. If he didn't react, then it was probably okay – especially since he was letting her come near him in the first place, let alone pet him.

"To think that a deer like you would actually come near me, even allowing me to touch you – it's a miracle in itself."

Angie glanced at the stag thoughtfully.

"Not like finding that rat in my car. _No,_ this is way better."

She withdrew her hand from the deer slowly.

"Sorry, big fella. I need to go inside now."

Angie nodded to him before adding:

"You're free to take shelter under that big tree over there, though."

She pointed to a tall maple tree near the side of her house, almost bordering both hers and her neighbour's yards. She wondered if it would understand the idea of what she had told him, if not the words. As if it knew what was expected, the large stag ambled over to the tree and laid itself down on the grass beneath the long, thick boughs.

"Alright," Angie murmured softly, almost to herself. "You be careful. It's supposed to hail tonight, and I hope you don't get caught up in that."

With that, Angie finally made her own way to her front door, avoiding all the puddles that were already beginning to form in the lawn. A few moments later, she found herself in the entrance hallway, a short and narrow passageway that opened up to her main living room. She deposited her keys and groped at the side wall for the light switch. As the room grew brighter, Angie stumbled through the modestly furnished living room and into her bedroom, where she found herself a fresh, and dry, set of clothes to replace the soaking wet ones she was still wearing. Finally at home, Angie sighed contentedly to herself, stretching her arms high above her head. She then settled quite easily into her regular afternoon routine for the day.


	3. If I had a pence for every time

Hi.

Sorry about the wait, but now I have part three.

Thanks to everyone who's read this so far, only one part left and then it's done.

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><p>3 – If I had a pence for every time...<p>

Angie gazed out of her living room window at her soaked backyard. The small patch of lawn was filled with shallow puddles, and the clothes line hoisted up over it was bare – there would be no point putting any laundry up there now. She was glad that her mother had recently convinced her to buy one of those new dryers that had come out last year; it was days like these that the machine was a godsend, rather than a bulky hunk of junk taking up precious space in her already cramped laundry room.

The sky was incredibly dark, so dark that it appeared to be purple. It made the trees stand out, an incredibly vivid green that seemed to almost glow. It was an eerie effect all in all. Angie sighed, the rain was pounding the grass, and tapping at the window pane. The noise was so loud, it was almost deafening. This made it almost impossible for her to tell whether or not the washing was clean, or if the dryer had finished yet.

Angie leaned back in her armchair. It was an old piece from her aunt's house, that greatly contrasted with the rest of her room. The chair was upholstered in an almost garish yellow, covered in pink flowers and green ivy-leaf patterns. The dark wooden armrests were age worn and chipped and scratched in several places; she was lucky not to have splintered a finger, since the cats her aunt owned had used this self same chair as a scratching post. The room was a cheerful sky blue, making the chair stand out like a sore thumb. Although it was a tacky piece, the armchair was quite comfortable. Angie had recently covered it with a navy blanket, to hide the hideous design. She planned to replace the chair's original fabric cover at some later date.

Angie turned her thoughts away from the chair, opting instead to glance down at her book sitting in her lap. The leather bound cover and the yellowed pages of its tale beckoned to her, promising times of adventure and suspense. She flipped it open to her marked spot and soon found herself lost in one of her favourite books – Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. All sounds and thoughts of the present were tossed aside in favour of the tale she held in her hands.

There was a flicker and a buzz when the shaded lamp beside her suddenly switched itself off. Angie glanced up at the room for a minute, disoriented. It was several moments before she realised what had happened: a black out.

Angie fumbled with the stack of items on a desk at her side, and then firmly grasped the one she was looking for. The torch's light spilled into the darkened room, illuminating a small area in front of her about a metre wide. Throwing on her boots and an old raincoat, Angie threw open her back door and stumbled into the yard, torch in hand and dodging puddles, searching for the fuse box.

"Bloody, stupid rain," she muttered to herself. "Why did the power have to go out?"

She pried the lid back off the wall and squinted at the series of labels and switches in front of her, blinking the rain out of her eyes.

"Let's see," Angie traced a finger along the side of the box, still searching. "The main is here..."

Switch flicked, there was no response showing in the house. Angie sighed.

"Typical," she grunted. "Let's try the living room..."

Still no sign of anything. Angie frowned.

"I hope the rest of these blasted things work, or I'm screwed for the night."

Several minutes later and still no lights were working. At this stage, Angie groaned in frustration and slammed the door to the fuse box closed. She then spun on her heel and stomped her way back through the door, slamming it behind her as well.

"Dammit," she muttered, hanging her raincoat on a hook to dry. "Where did I put the candles?"

Angie set the last dish on the counter-top rack to dry, grabbing a dish towel next to it to wipe the soapy water from her hands. The candlelight cast an eerie glow about her house, as the power had not yet returned. Angie was concerned about this, since the blackout occurred almost two hours prior, at around 6pm - reading the clock on her living room wall.

Another flicker and buzz sounded as suddenly the room was bathed in light. Angie grinned to herself, the power was back! In a mad dash to prevent a fire hazard, she extinguished every candle in each room, opting to return them to their designated storage place later. Angie restarted the washer and checked the dryer; it turned out that both machines needed to be re-run.

Just as she was settling back down in her armchair, novel in hand, Angie realised with a start that she forgot to put out the garbage for collection the next day. She swore.

"Yet another thing to add to my growing list of things that went wrong today," Angie grumbled, standing.

She wandered around her house to double check that every bin had been taken care of, before locating her boots and coat, right where she left them by the door. Angie donned them, opened the front door, and followed the brick wall around to the side yard, where the council bins were stored. She sighed to herself, grasping the handle of one and half dragged/half carried the metal container out to the curb at the end of the driveway. Angie clapped the dust filled water off her hands, pivoting to face her house again. She began her walk back to the front door.

The next thing Angie knew, a great force slammed into her, forcing her forward into the mud, the weight of it digging into her back. Whatever it was, it was extremely heavy.

"Oww," she groaned. "Get off," she mumbled, winded.

Angie waved a hand around behind her to try to shove the thing off of her, and met with a fistful of fur. Angie started. _What is it now?_ She wondered to herself. _Could it be the deer?_ She wasn't sure, but hoped that wasn't the case. It didn't feel heavy enough to be the stag she had met up with earlier, it was much too small. Angie guessed that it was probably a large dog, what kind it was remained to be determined.

"Now to get it off..." She mumbled. _Yeah, that's _so _easy_, she thought to herself sarcastically.

"Oi!" She barked at it commandingly. "Off!"

The weight on her lessened, and she immediately stood up, turning to face the animal. The sight that met her eyes was a slight bit different than she thought it would be. It was a large, shaggy dog, with dark grey fur. She found it difficult to determine its breed; if anything, it was probably either wild or a stray. Angie could see no collar around its neck to help her identify its owner. It stared at her with large, misty grey eyes, meeting her gaze with an intense one of its own. She knew what she had to do then; with no means of identification, Angie would have to call animal control to come and collect the dog. She hoped that it wouldn't give her too much trouble though, the dog looked like it was strong enough to tear her apart if it deemed it necessary.

After all of her musing, Angie was left with one particularly important problem: she had no way of restraining the dog to prevent its escape. It sat itself down in front of her, as if anticipating her intentions. The canine's ears drooped in submission, resigning itself to its fate – or so it appeared to Angie.

"Hey!"

A loud shout came from behind her, and she spun around, startled at the sudden noise. It was only sprinkling at this point, further soaking her already drenched and heavily muddied clothes. The figure rushed over to meet her, somehow keeping an even pace through all the mud and water.

"You found him," the masculine voice continued, sounding fairly relieved. "I thought he had run away for good."

Angie stared at the speaker, confused. "This is your dog, then?" She asked him.

"Yes," he replied in a matter of fact tone. "He had me worried when he suddenly bolted off like he did."

"Do you usually walk your dog at this time of night, then?" Angie questioned, curious.

"I certainly do. It's a different street every time, though, otherwise he gets too excited." The boy glanced over at the dog. "Come here, Padfoot, you rascal!"

There was a pause in his explanation, during which Angie took the opportunity to get a better look at this stranger. The speaker happened to be a boy close to her age, probably around 17, if she could hazard a guess. They were both around the same height, and the light from her front door was bright enough to see the expression on his face. The boy really did seem relieved, then.

"If he's yours," Angie started. "Then why isn't he wearing his ID tags, or even a collar? Surely you don't want to lose him to a pound."

Padfoot ambled its way over to sit between them as they talked. He stared at Angie, giving her what looked like a smug expression before staring at the opposite curb.

The boy ran a hand through his sandy hair, looking sheepish.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Remus, what's yours?"

Remus extended a hand out to Angie, who took it.

"Angie," she replied. "Nice to meet you, Remus."

"Same to you, Angie," he said warmly.

Padfoot turned his head to look up at her, its long tail swishing through the mud and grass at their feet. He didn't seem bothered in the least; actually, the dog appeared to be pleased with the current weather.

"You still didn't answer my question, though," Angie told the boy. "Where's his collar?"

"He doesn't like it," Remus replied with a shrug. "Padfoot's very free spirited. He doesn't appreciate any form of restraint, although he follows commands fairly well."

Angie thought back to the moment she'd ordered the canine to get off of her. Padfoot had obeyed almost immediately.

"He seems well trained. Does he tackle people often?"

"Did he get you?" Remus asked, chuckling. "He doesn't usually do that, I've only seen him do that to a couple of friends of mine. He must like you."

Padfoot realised that the humans were talking about him, and wagged his tail energetically.

"I guess I should leave you to finish your walk," Angie concluded. "Padfoot looks like he's ready to go."

Angie smiled at the dog, who brightened up at her gaze.

"It was nice to meet you, Angie," Remus said. "Maybe we'll run into each other again."

"Maybe," Angie replied, glancing back up at him, and grinning.

"Come on, boy," Remus called out to the dog. "Let's go for a walk!"

Padfoot perked up at the words and bounded over to his owner, tail wagging excitedly.

"See you around, Angie," Remus called, waving, as he and his dog wandered further away.

"See you!" Angie called back, repeating the gesture.

Angie smiled to herself as she turned her attention back towards her house, ready to change into dry clothes for the second time that day.


	4. What the?

Hi everyone! Well, I've finally finished typing up this part, so here it is: part 4 of One Night In London. Thanks for reading along so far, and I hope you enjoy the concluding chapter... It's going out with a bang!

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><p>4 – What the...?<p>

A loud crack sounded over Angie's head, making her jump about a foot and a half into the air, startled. She glanced skyward, perturbed at this new disturbance to her _long_ day.

"Great," Angie grumbled, throwing her hands up. "Fireworks! Someone's having a party, and at this rate, my peaceful night will never happen!"

She squinted at the swirling colours above her head.

"Is that a Skull?" Angie frowned, confused. "I guess it's someone's Halloween style party, or something. She shrugged, "Oh well, doesn't concern me..."

With that, Angie turned, focusing on her house once again.

She barely had a second before she found herself face first on the ground again. She rolled her eyes.

"Padfoot," she muttered. "Off!"

The dog jumped from her back a second time, watching Angie raise herself to her feet, his ears laid flat against his head. Padfoot stared pointedly at the sky, a low warning growl rumbling in his throat.

"Angie!" She heard Remus next; he sounded frantic.

"Don't worry, Remus," Angie called out, smiling. "He's over here, although I have no idea what he's so worked up about. They're just fireworks."

"No," Remus countered. "Those aren't fireworks. We're in trouble now..."

Remus appeared to struggle with himself over something, glancing at Padfoot, the sky and Angie before coming to some kind of decision. She could have sworn she had heard him mutter something along the lines of _hang it all_, making Angie even more confused about the whole situation.

"Wait," she said. "What do you mean? How are we in trouble?"

He turned his gaze to Angie then, and the look he gave her chilled her to the bone.

"I'm not supposed to tell you, but I think that this scenario gives just cause for an exception."

She stared at him, not understanding.

"Look," Remus said quickly, eyes darting around frantically. "I'll explain later. We need to hide, _now_."

"What? Wh-?"

Remus grabbed her arm and dragged her along with him as he half ran towards Angie's front door, Padfoot on their heels. Ignoring Angie's dumbfounded expression, he focused on the dog at his side.

"Sirius," Remus called sharply, gaining the canine's attention. "Get Prongs and Wormtail here, they'll have already seen the sign."

As the dog made ready to leave, Remus added, albeit quickly, "And hurry!"

Padfoot gestured pointedly at Angie with his snout, giving Remus a heated look.

"It's alright," He replied to the glare. "This is more important. You need to get them; I'll stay with Angie."

The dog gestured again, this time towards the gnarled oak tree at the side of the yard. A large shadow loomed under the bright branches, close to the ground.

"He didn't move at all, did he?" Remus muttered, almost to himself. "That makes things a bit easier."

The dog nodded, still staring at the tree. Angie was surprised at this, it seemed that she wasn't the only one who attempted real conversation with animals...

"You still have to find Wormtail, though, Sirius." Remus was half demanding.

"Why are you calling him Sirius all of a sudden?" Angie burst out, unable to keep quiet anymore. "I thought your dog's name was Padfoot."

As she finished speaking, Angie noted that said pet was already at the tree, where the shadow was moving.

"Is that...?" she whispered, surprised.

As the shadow loomed closer to where she was standing, Angie realised that it was the stag she encountered earlier that afternoon. She could hardly believe that he had remained under that tree the entire time since she offered the deer that spot so many hours ago.

A moment later, it was standing before her, the same regal look settled on its face as she stared at it.

"Hello there, big fella," she cooed at it again, smiling. "You didn't get too wet, did you?"

Remus burst into laughter beside her, practically doubling over. Angie regarded him with a puzzled expression on her face, wondering what it was that was so amusing. Didn't he just finish telling her not five minutes ago that they were in trouble?

He took in the confused look on her face and laughed again, unable to help himself.

"Actually, I did get wet; if it's anything to you," another voice answered her previous question.

Angie yelped, jumping about five feet in the air. Where the deer once stood, another boy now occupied, grinning broadly at her as she tried to compose herself. The young man was taller than she was, with dark hair, wet and plastered against his face from the rain. His hazel eyes regarded her with the same regal expression from behind glasses that she had spotted on the deer before.

"This is a serious situation, James."

Remus' voice found its way back into the conversation. He glared at the newcomer, giving him a warning look.

"But _I'm_ serious," came a third voice, darker than the first two.

At this point, Angie was too bewildered to say anything at all. Suddenly there were two extra people where there was originally one with two animals nearby.

"_Sirius_," Remus warned, giving a glare to someone behind her.

Angie turned to face this other newcomer, who also appeared to be taller than her. The main distinguishing features that caught her attention were the hair and grey eyes that seemed to match the dog, Padfoot. The gaze this boy was giving her now seemed full of mirth.

"What's so funny," She asked them. "Can anyone tell me what's going on?"

The boy Remus had called James seemed to be looking around for something.

"Peter..." The three had said in almost perfect unison.

"Who? Is anyone listening to me?" Angie's patience was beginning to fray.

She felt something scamper over her feet, making her skin crawl. Angie looked down, and caught the gaze of a very familiar pair of dark, beady eyes staring back up at her. Angie shrieked.

"A rat!" She cried out. "_You!_ The rat from before! How?"

She found herself face to face with yet another boy her age, shorter than her, with watery eyes meeting hers timidly.

"I'm Peter," he told her softly. "And Wormtail."

Angie and her sudden guests were seated in her living room, wrapped in towels to prevent the furniture from getting wet from their soaked clothes. It had only been five minutes and the silence was becoming unbearable.

"Alright," she began. "I think we've gone on long enough. I want explanations, what's going on?"

The fours boys sighed collectively, resigning themselves to answer her questions.

"Where do we start?" James was asking, giving worried glances over towards his friends and nervous ones at Angie.

"Why not at the beginning?" Remus spoke up. "It was your idea after all, James."

"What's he talking about? What do you mean?"

"We've been pranking you all afternoon, Angie," James admitted with a sigh. "Ever since you tried to get into your car in that parking lot."

Angie's eyes widened.

"The umbrella was Remus' idea. I thought it was too simple, though."

"_James_," Remus warned.

"Fine," James glared at his friend. "Peter jumped into your car when you opened the door. You know how that went."

Angie stared at Peter, confused. He apologised, unable to meet her gaze.

"Next was my turn," James continued. "I came up behind you and waited for you to turn around..."

She frowned at him, not understanding what he meant.

"Sirius found you next, and Remus chased him." James waved his hand dismissively. "The rest you know."

"The only person here that I remember seeing was Remus," Angie began. "You lot only appeared after Remus' dog tackled me again, and that was when those fireworks had just gone off."

James raised an eyebrow.

"You mean, you don't know?" He asked her, confused himself. "I thought you weren't a muggle..."

"A what?"

Remus glared at James, clearly unimpressed with how his friend dealt with the explanations.

"You didn't think, _again_, James," he told him. "Weren't you paying attention at all?"

"I _thought_ it was kind of strange that she didn't repair her umbrella, or conjure a new one..." Sirius volunteered.

"Conjure one?" Angie exclaimed incredulously. "What, like some kind of magician or wizard or something?"

James and Sirius exchanged a grin. "Exactly."

"You mean-"

"Yes, Angie," Remus told her softly. "We're wizards."

"Huh?"

"Welcome to _our_ world..."

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><p>That's all, folks. Thankyou for reading. I hope you've enjoyed this very interesting story that somehow managed to deviate from my original plans...<p>

If enough people like this, I just might post a companion or sequel, or maybe not. I haven't decided yet; let me know what you think.

Peace out,

Shadowcaster01


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